“You know, you could have called me,” she said softly.
I shook my head. “No need to ruin both of our nights.”
She reached out and took my hand. “I wouldn’t have been mad. I want us to be friends. And if you want to talk about it, I’m all ears.”
I managed a smile. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You’ll never be a bother, Lauren. If you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty loyal to those I care about. And for whatever reason, you decided that even though I’m messed up, you’re not going to move out. I respect that.”
“Everyone is messed up in their own way. I’m no different.”
We moved into the living room and took a seat on what was quickly becoming the sofa of difficult situations. Blake perched on one end, curling her long legs underneath her. I took the opposite end, my feet planted firmly on the ground.
“So, has he called you yet?” she began.
I blinked, unsure of who she was referring to.
“Eric,” she clarified.
“Only about fifteen times or so.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“No.”
“Serves him right.”
I snorted. “He’s not used to me hanging up on him.”
“I’m proud of you. The only thing that would have been better is if you would have kept your reservation and found someone else to go with. Get a full meal, appetizers, drinks, the most expensive entrée, dessert and then send him the bill.”
“You sound like you’ve done that before.”
She smirked.
“I was in no condition to go out anyway,” I admitted, “but I’ll keep it in mind for the next time he ditches me.”
“This happens a lot?”
I sighed. “Not this exactly. Just last month, I lived in Indy. I was local, and it wasn’t two hours of driving one way to come see me. I could go see him for an hour or so if I wanted. Sometimes, he would just stop over at my place. But most of the time, I drove to his. Going to dinner wasn’t a special occasion. He really does work hard, and he gets called away quite a bit. Unexpectedly at times.”
“So unexpectedly that he didn’t have an opportunity to call you before he got to the airport?”
“I know his timing was bad. Maybe he was afraid of hurting me. Maybe he was trying to think of the right thing to say.”
“Lauren, he hurt you by doing what he did. I’m almost positive he knew about the trip Saturday morning, if not Friday night. He should have been a man and called you then.”
“You’re right. But this whole thing is new for us and we just need some time to adjust. He promised me that we would make this work.”
“He also promised you he’d come and visit.”
I stared down at my hands. Blake was right. Eric had been at fault, and here I was defending him.
“He did tell me he was sorry,” I said softly.
“Good. He should be. Don’t let him off so easy. He needs to earn his way back into your good graces. From what I heard, you were practically inconsolable last night.”
I blushed. This is why I did angry instead of vulnerable. Anger faded with time, and everyone understood that. When you let go of your anger, you looked like the bigger person, able to forgive and forget. When you showed emotion and sensitivity, people looked at you as if you were caving in when you continued forward like nothing happened. Blake was clearly in the latter category.
“It’s okay, sweetie; don’t be embarrassed. You shouldn’t have been alone last night, and since I wasn’t here, my brother’s the next best thing. I’m glad that he stayed with you until I got home.”
I had a feeling I knew exactly when that was, but I felt the need to confirm. “How late was he here?”
“He took off about three thirty this morning. You were both asleep when I got here. We talked for a little while and then he carried you up to bed.”
I nodded. Exactly how I had pictured it.
“Did you guys talk about other things, too?”
“No. We didn’t really say much. I wasn’t feeling much like talking, but I know we need to.”
“Agreed. I’d hate to see him push you away because of everything that’s gone on in your pasts. I think the two of you could have a great friendship. You seemed pretty cozy with each other last night.”
I could only imagine. Blake didn’t see upset by the fact that I had fallen asleep on top of her brother, wrapped in his embrace. I sincerely doubted that he had moved out from under me once I had drifted off.
“I brought it up the night that you told me everything, but we never finished the conversation.”
“Really?” Blake shifted on the cushion, settling in for a good story.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“We are close, but we don’t share absolutely everything. And, no, he didn’t.”
“I texted him. I was worried about him; the way he stormed out of here. I told him that we needed to talk about things, that I knew what happened. And then Eric called and interrupted. Matthew never answered me. Last night was the first I saw or heard from him since. My hysteric sobbing probably clued him in to the fact it wasn’t an appropriate time to discuss.”
“Well, you should sooner rather than later.”
“I know. Especially since I accidentally told Eric all about it that night.”
I thought Blake’s eyes would pop out of her head. “You what?”
“When Eric called, I thought he was Matthew because we were in the middle of texting. I didn’t look before I answered. I blurted everything out. I feel really guilty about it.”
Blake shrugged. “Probably not the best technique, but he would have found out about it anyway. Eric seems pretty smart. He could just look everything up on the internet. It’s all out there.”
“Still, I should have been more careful. I didn’t need to add any fuel to the fire. I’m surprised Eric didn’t drive up here immediately and pack all my stuff himself.”
“It pisses him off, right?” She smiled evilly.
“He told me I need to be careful.”
“Good advice for any situation. But I hardly think you need to fear my brother.”
“He was anything but scary last night,” I said under my breath.
Blake heard my comment. “Lauren, are you attracted to my brother?”
“I have a boyfriend.”
“Not what I asked.”
“What you asked is irrelevant because I have a boyfriend.”
“Hah. I knew it.”
“Blake,” I nearly whined, “I have Eric. Just because I admit that your brother is cute doesn’t mean that anything will ever happen between us. I hope we can be friends; that’s all. That’s all that ever will be.”
There was no way I was going to tell her about this morning’s text. She would read way too much into that. I was reading way too much into that. I wasn’t even sure why I hadn’t deleted it yet. If and when Eric and I ever saw each other again, if he read it, he would be beyond mad. I doubted that he would be conniving enough to snoop through my phone, but I wasn’t entirely sure.
I wasn’t entirely sure of anything anymore.
Chapter Ten
Sure enough, another bouquet of roses was delivered to my office Monday morning at a little after nine in the morning. I saw the way the women stared at me in awe; I vowed that I would not make this a weekly occurrence. Instead of working in their shadow for the rest of the day, I promptly removed the card from Eric, then transported them into the breakroom for everyone to share. I might as well not waste them like the last bunch. At least this way, someone might enjoy them.
It was time to end the silent treatment. I was satisfied that I had made him suffer since the hang up on Saturday evening, so I texted him thanks for the flowers. I didn’t have to let him know where they ended up. Relieved, he responded immediately, again professing his remorse. He also invited me down for the weekend, promising that he was one hundred percent sure he wouldn’t be work
ing. I quickly accepted even though it meant two hours in the car for me.
That was the way we operated; hot and cold, passionate and chilly. This was my normal. The move had amplified the tension tenfold, but the core of the relationship remained. I knew Blake would shake her head at me. Probably Matthew at this point, too, but they didn’t understand. Eric and I were going to make this work, come hell or high water. I didn’t fail at anything.
Another thing I wouldn’t fail at was merging my two worlds together. Over the course of Sunday, with Blake’s help, I tentatively began planning a Thanksgiving Day get together in Fort Wayne. All I had to do was convince everyone to show up. My dad would come, no questions asked. I would also invite Gracie, though I wasn’t sure if she was already busy. If she couldn’t make it, no harm, no foul. Eric would be the tough one to persuade. All I had to do was just get him here. Once he could see that I had a nice place to stay and good friends here, maybe he would be more at peace with my decision.
Matthew was also a wild card. I knew I had to smooth things over with him first, especially since he felt such obvious guilt about my mother dying at the hands of another drunk driver. Once that was accomplished and I had obtained his blessing, I needed to focus on my dad. My plan was to talk to my father at some point prior to the holiday and fill him in on everything. Then, when the two of them met, Matthew might feel better about himself as he came to the conclusion that my father wasn’t upset with him over what he had done. Even though Eric expressed doubt that this would be the case, he was historically pessimistic. I couldn’t imagine my father hating Matthew for making a mistake in his youth, even if it was an ironic one as far as we were concerned.
Blake suggested that we hold the dinner at Matthew’s house. This would serve two purposes: one, he would have to show up, and two, his home was in her opinion better suited for entertaining. Since I was the one who would be cooking, she appealed to my senses by describing his gourmet kitchen with double ovens. I practically salivated, then realized that such appointments were lost on someone who lived a bachelor’s life. She stated that he had a formal dining room in his house which contained an impressive table that seated eight comfortably. I took her word for it; she used to live there. She promised to take me over there soon to get accustomed to the place. That way I wouldn’t have to be nervous, trying to impress people in unfamiliar surroundings. Instead, I would merely be nervous because I wanted everyone to get along.
Together, we would bring this plan to fruition. All I needed to do was set the stage, then cook a ton of food. Blake would follow behind, wrapping up loose ends. With her at my side, those loose ends would be tied up in a nice, neat designer bow. Something fitting of a magazine spread.
Blake’s car was already in the garage when I pulled in. I had stayed a little later than usual at work, wrapping up some things after the rest of my staff had gone home. I was finally getting a handle on my position and was learning my team’s strengths and weaknesses. This week I planned on sitting down with each of them one on one to discuss how they complemented one another and how I planned to utilize them in the future. I hoped I would receive an enthusiastic response. So far, so good. The group all seemed to get along with each other, and they had accepted me as well as could be expected.
Blake hadn’t been home for long, or else she was just stalling so that she wouldn’t have to feel obliged to begin the dinner preparations. The kitchen was empty, and I could hear the shower running in her bedroom. Laughing to myself, I turned on the oven and went to change while it preheated.
I returned to the still deserted kitchen and gathered my ingredients. Tonight was homemade macaroni and cheese. I had no clue if Matthew would be joining us tonight, so my course of action was to make a batch large enough for the three of us. If he didn’t make an appearance, I could throw the leftovers in a plastic bowl and take it to work for lunch. I could pretend that I planned it that way, and take care to hide my disappointment. Blake would never be the wiser.
With each passing minute, my hope of seeing Matthew today diminished. I had made it completely through the process of getting the dish into the oven. Blake still hadn’t appeared from her bedroom. I caught myself pacing the floor, staring at the digital kitchen timer as the seconds ticked off. I was practically beside myself by the time she strolled into the kitchen.
She was not dressed for an evening in. The sapphire blue dress she wore fit like it was made for her. Strapless and floor length, it clung to her curves in the classiest of ways. A deep slit revealed a shapely leg wearing a silver strappy sandal with a stiletto heel. Her blond waves spilled over her shoulders, the blue streak a striking contrast.
I stared at her quizzically, trying to remember if she had mentioned a date tonight. I didn’t think so. In any regard, it looked as though I would have plenty of food left tonight. I wouldn’t need to buy lunch for a week.
“There’s a charity auction tonight,” she explained without me asking, “I’ll be home late.”
“Okay,” I said, resigning myself to the fact I would be dining alone.
“Don’t worry,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder, “he’s running late. He’ll be here. The two of you need to talk anyway.”
With that, she exited through the door to the garage. I heard the Miata start and the garage door close behind her as she left. Shortly after, the oven timer signaled that the food was ready. Grabbing an oven mitt and a cooling rack, I took the dish out of the oven and set it on the counter.
So according to Blake he was coming. I still only removed one plate from the cabinet, thinking that pulling another place setting out would look too presumptuous. After all he had yet to show, and provided he did, he knew where all the dishes were. I spooned myself out a generous helping of macaroni and sat down at the breakfast bar to contemplate things. My fork shook in my hand as I lifted it to take a bite.
I managed to get about half of my macaroni down before I heard the now familiar rumble of the Mustang’s engine. It was all I could do not to spring from my seat and run to the door. Instead, I remained glued to my stool. As the key turned in the lock, I lifted my fork and kept eating as calmly as I possibly could.
Matthew made a beeline for the kitchen. I did have to admit that the smells wafting through the house were quite inviting. There would be no doubt that dinner had been already served.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted, smiling broadly as he passed.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied, hoping my voice sounded casual.
He pulled open the cabinet door and grabbed himself a plate. Just like I assumed, he knew where absolutely everything was. I watched him as he served himself, piling a sizable portion onto his plate. He grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and sat down beside me. Due to the positioning of the bar stools, our knees were dangerously close to touching. He didn’t seem to notice, and I was having a hard time remembering why I cared.
“Good day at work?” he asked between bites.
“I guess so.”
“No apology flowers from the boyfriend?”
“I put them in the breakroom at work.”
He laughed, which was a beautiful sound. “Roses again?”
“Of course.”
He finished eating, then stood to take his plate to the dishwasher. As he rose, his knee brushed mine ever so slightly. I shivered noticeably at the contact. As he walked by me, he collected my empty plate as well. The irony of the situation was not lost on me. We were the ones playing house as we casually discussed how my boyfriend had tried to appease for his actions.
“Did you know about Blake’s dinner thing tonight?” he asked as he rinsed off the dishes.
“No. Not at all. You think she’s making it up?”
“I’m not sure. Doesn’t it seem a little convenient?”
“If so, she went to some pretty elaborate lengths to set us up. She walked out of here dressed like a million bucks. It would be pretty hard to go kill some time at the mall in that outfit. Or
those shoes.”
Another laugh. “When my sister gets an idea in her head, nothing can stop her.”
“Well, then, shouldn’t we honor her wishes?”
A small smile formed on his face. He quickly loaded the dishwasher and followed me to the living room. We sat together on the couch, side by side, nearly touching. Once again I was reminded of how good soap could smell. The proximity to one another was encouraging. Perhaps I could convince him that I wasn’t upset with him and talk him into Thanksgiving dinner all at once.
“So, you’ve forgiven him?”
If that wasn’t a leading question, I didn’t know what was. Maybe this wouldn’t be easy after all. I sighed deeply, stalling as I tried to gauge his tone. I had to tell him the truth. There was no sense in lying since he would surely notice my absence this weekend.
“I guess I have. At least I’ve gotten over it, for the most part. I ignored him all weekend. Once he sent the flowers this morning, I decided to be the bigger person and text him. I’m going down to Indy for the weekend. He promised me no work.”
“And you believe him?”
“I seriously doubt he’d do the same thing twice in a row. Besides, I have a key to his place. If he ditches me, I’ll just trash his condo and go out with my friends.” I smiled wickedly.
“Promise me that you’ll call me if you do trash his place. I’d be glad to come down and help. It kind of sounds like fun.”
“He’s really not that bad. I was just upset on Saturday because he waited until the last minute to bail on me. I’m sorry that you had to deal with it. I hope you didn’t miss out on anything important; I know you canceled your plans.”
“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t going to leave you alone like that. And I canceled on my best friend. It’s not like he’ll never forgive me for it.”
I remembered back to Blake’s description of her ex. I was pretty sure that guy and the friend that Matthew called on Saturday night were one and the same. I wondered if I should press the issue. I quickly decided to bite my tongue and keep quiet. There was no reason, other than my own curiosity, to ask about this mystery man. If Blake wanted to tell me, she would. Likewise for Matthew.
Intoxicated Page 9
